Beware of Slivers
by Razel.Korr
Summary: Collection of short fiction inspired by various cards and things, will update as they come to me.
1. Read the Sign

From the shadow of emptiness, a wrinkle in space ignited violently, resolving the planeswalker's grinning demonic visage on sturdier ground than the space between spaces. The fiend's face flickered in the flames, a devilish grin brushing aside the fire as it evaporated from his newly constituent form. Soot clouded from the sides of his lips as he voiced his satisfaction.

"Brilliant…looks quiet and stocked…"

The building before him was imposing and unnaturally clean, probably holding a slew of riches. He descended the few short steps from the shrine he found himself sheltered by, whistling in an impressed tone to himself. The Manor loomed over him, two wings tracing a U-shaped path surrounding a courtyard on the roof of the first few levels. Décor glinted in the sporadic lighting, hints of gold and silver casting subdued flashes from the suspended torches providing illumination. A gunmetal torus was embedded in the main entrance, with no seam visible yet a pattern of frost suggesting its presence quite clearly. A bridge conveyed him from the steps across a pool of apathetic black void, glassy and still and flat as a razor. He found his attention drawn to a sign that had been hammered into the permafrost between the Manor and the Pool, a rough wooden warning scrawled in some unknown media.

"Be…Beware of…of what? What is that?"

The image was not one he was familiar with, a sinuous creature curled up like an unborn child. He paid the unsettling image no mind, setting foot onto the ice and trodding toward the door.

A low rumbling preceded the tunnel that erupted from the frost to his left. Immediately he placed himself on guard, turning reflexively and narrowing his eyes, a quiet chittering blending with the gentle rumble of the front door. As the manor crept open, the cascading frost revealed a disheveled occupant carting a steaming mug of something. Looking back to the hole that had emerged from the frozen ground, he recoiled in disgust as he watched it berth the sinuous thing that provided the noise, sounds of more sneaking up behind it as it drew closer. The very sight of it repulsed him, leaving an instinctive urge to squish it overtaking his senses as his disgust became obvious through his face.

The occupant merely took a sip.

Two more of the things slithered out, their presence inciting a ripple among their constituent forms. Cracking bone and whipping muscle spread through the things, while the 'walker could only suppress a gag and project a fireball into them. Flames seared them handily, their bodies withering and curling as worms in the sun. Their chittering intensified instead of quieting, three more squirming out of the aperture and slithering in his direction.

"No, no, keep your Gorram distance!"

His fingers spit lighting through them, chaining from body to body and carving holes through their flesh. Corpses fell upon corpses while more continued to seep from the hole, slipping over the fallen others and rippling as their morphology came into question.

The occupant took another sip.

Chattering creatures flowed at him, a large cluster of them rearing up to present quills. His response was succinct and explosive, removing the capability from their gene pool. Another led them in utilizing sudden wings, only to find itself perforated by electric death. A fireball here, a lightning bolt there, one or two would be picked off to make room for twelve more. A wave of meat surged for the fiend, their melodious evolution and their cacophonous vocalizations filling the air around him.

"SEE HOW YOU LIKE THIS!"

A surge of power radiated from his flesh as he pressed the things back through his will alone, searing away many of the drones and significantly thinning the numbers topside. Before the last had hit the floor, more had arrived to replace them. Endless bodies came at him, refusing any semblance of pity or awareness. Seizing a chance, he condensed his fury into the space they occupied, igniting them all simultaneously and wasting away what corpses remained in a whirlwind of ash. His breath came in ragged gasps, sputtering embers leaking out of his lips. Rumbling beneath his feet heralded something he knew better than to look forward to.

The occupant seemed to be unimpressed by his beverage.

Flames caught in the air around the demon, providing a basic level of physical defense. He ran past and over the hole, rolling into the ice and skidding just short of the cliff face. Raw nothingness surrounded the plot of land the building sat upon to offer literally no place to go. He spun around again, seeing more of the creatures clambering around the small hill while the occupant simply leaned against one of the pillars, sniffing his cup disdainfully.

"Alright, if you wanna play that way…"

His flames roared to vigorous life, shifting from vivid crimson to an azure blue. The first wave of bodies collapsed just short of him, unable to take the heat. Several more pulsed after them, encouraging an expeditious re-evaluation of his defenses. Flames failing him, he began to indiscriminately launch arcs of power into the sea of slavering watchdogs, his shocking assault only barely enough to keep the worst of them at bay. Their power overwhelmed him, collapsing atop his frame and trapping him under a blanket of meat.

The occupant placed a small spoon into the pool of dark nothingness, extracting a teaspoon of black void and stirring it into his drink.

A final flare evaporated the last of the creatures, the chittering dying away as the hole receded into the floor. The fiend chuckled weakly to himself, leaning heavily on his arm as he forced himself upright. A faint hint of delirium rung through his voice, punctuated by colorful sparks coming through his facial flames. He shambled at the occupant, half-dead and all confused.

"Wha…what are those things?"

The occupant smiled, raising his eyebrows in contentment and taking another sip as he ignored the interloper, taking a calm step towards him but offering to reply. Silence only served to break the infernal further.

"Who…are…you?"

The strange man smiled deviously from behind his mug, his voice thick with arrogance.

"I'm their owner."

A great shadow tore from the space behind the occupant, and as the dark figure loomed high, the fiend lost consciousness for the final time.


	2. You've got the Touch

Golden eyes, staring for all time. Hands raised. Some recoiling, some turning in surprise. None moving.

A place of calm. Reflection, introspection, surrounded by spectres of the past and urged forward into the future.

Mirrors, curved and bent and crying out.

Reach out, touch one lightly.

_Ting._

So many faces with so many emotions. Heroes. Glory seekers.

The Dead.

_The Exiled._

Rustling, movement, fabric on fabric and panic surrounding. You look.

_Nothing._

More statues. More glimpses of terror. More grimaces of rage. One peacefully sleeping.

_Rustle, rustle._

You turn again. A crowd of golden horrors fills the chamber, but you are alone. All bodies, no souls.

The middle of the room, still empty, gaping within the ring of trophies. Bases, empty, awaiting new feet and plaster.

_Squish._

Thick between your toes, seeping through your shoes, holding you trapped.

_Rustle, rustle._

_CRACK._

Glacial thunder, dropping temperatures, inability to face your foe.

Steps, approaching. Closer. Closer. Stopping and chuckling, yet no breath.

_Rustle, reach, TING._

Spine, stiffening. Legs, solid. Posture, sealed for all time. Sight of the few poor souls around you the last thing you see as your vision is overwhelmed by a pure, unflinching gold.


End file.
